


hellbent, heaven-sent - avatrice

by thecrayreport



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Character Death, F/F, like for real i'm warning you, my guy this is some heavy stuff okay, ok you bad read it then
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 10:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25967872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecrayreport/pseuds/thecrayreport
Summary: Have you ever wondered what the fury of the Halo Bearer looks like? Beatrice, and subsequently Adriel, find out the hard way.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 8
Kudos: 143





	hellbent, heaven-sent - avatrice

**Author's Note:**

> an idea that i had for a hot minute thanks to doctor who. time-wise, it's taken right after that MAJOR cliff of an ending in season one, so here ya go
> 
> (want some extra punch? listen to "a narnia lullaby" while reading this on loop. you're welcome)

Ancient texts read over candlelight could never prepare Beatrice to see the true power of the halo, as well as its bearer. That would require the spilled blood of the most innocent of them all.

Camila’s body was still steaming from where Adriel ran her through. There wasn’t even blood to smear Lilith’s face as she dove to catch what little of her remained. Her eyes, having been closed the moment she accepted her fate, were as still as Mary was restless. Her signature guns, broken like her arms, lied at her feet, while she fought tooth and claw to reach them in the packed courtyard. But it was impossible. They had been overwhelmed, and so easily, Beatrice didn’t have the chance to grieve before the root of their anguish made his appearance once again.

It took only a flick of his wrist for the demons to part. Blood dripped from their knuckles as they departed from Mary’s form, their savagery glinting in their eyes. Adriel was more reserved. He slipped through the snarling bodies, hands steepled in front of his chest like the saints whose bodies he trode over. His hooded eyes fell onto Mary, a mixture of spittle and blood staining her chin. Discontent wrung through his face at her refusal to simply keel over and die like the rest of them.

“All I want is what’s rightfully mine,” he said. “Your denial of such is meaningless. Your fight means nothing. Hand me my halo, and I will leave.”

“You lie!” Lilith cried, wrenching her face from Camila’s shoulder. Beatrice gasped. Blood streamed down her eyes instead of tears. She was damned, yes, but so were many of them. “All of this is because of you. You take like the thief you are, and you’ll do it again!”

“I will not be disrespected by an abomination!” The darkness had returned to him then, and he struck Lilith across the side of her face with the flat of his hand. She didn’t have the strength to fight back. Her hands left Camila’s body and so did herself, sailing through the air before careening into the path of a stone wall. Beatrice flinched as she heard her sister-in-arms break beneath it, and as she fell in a crumpled heap, did she dare to realize something.

Where was their bearer?

Beatrice searched through the crowd. The last time she had seen Ava, she was behind them, shielded by Mary’s body. But when the latter had gone down beneath the wave of possessed, Camila leaped to her aid, to her eventual demise. Since then, Beatrice had failed to notice anything past that. But then, her eyes caught onto movement, slow yet determined, and that’s when she saw her.

The halo didn’t just merely glow, it burned. Those who dared to gaze upon its light not only were struck sightless, they melted beneath its heat. Their flesh peeled away from their skulls, their hair caught aflame. Their screams died with one swing from her rapier, their bodies falling by their waists from where she cleaved them clean through. She didn’t rest, either. Behind the death that followed her from behind, Ava’s hand never wavered, even when the crowd turned to advance toward her. Her gaze stayed the same: level, intense, and as cold as broken ice.

Adriel whirled around at the commotion. He waved his hands again, perhaps to swat her away as easily as he had with Lilith. But Ava was long past that. She had tapped into an ancient well that had only been a prayer. But witnessing it, breathing in the blood that wafted through the air, Beatrice understood. The halo truly was a curse, and in the arms of her beloved, its corruption had reached its full potential.

Blood soaked Ava’s armor. The chainmail on her back had completely melted through. The burnt remains of her clothes now lied in tatters, hanging on by a thread. Beatrice tried to shield her eyes from the halo’s light, but she could feel it through her fingers, as if holding them against a raging bonfire. Ava approached their attacker with the fluidity and courage of a lioness who came to meet the challenge of a loner, all while her sisters cowered beneath her light.

“You killed my friend,” she said through clenched teeth.

Adriel opened his mouth, but Ava was fast. She grabbed his jaw, her nails cutting through the skin of his beard like flint. He writhed in her grip and she rewarded him by slicing through his arm, right at its furthest joint. He couldn’t wail in agony before she held the sword一her sword, up against his quivering eyeball.

“How many of us are there?” she demanded.

Adriel stammered to reply, and Beatrice ran through her mind trying to decipher what she could have possibly meant. Did she mean fellow nuns? More than she, herself, could count. But why would she ask him that? He had previously been trapped within a tomb for literally hundreds of years. While Beatrice was open to the question as to how that might have happened in the first place, she wasn’t able to get that chance. Ava was beyond reason, beyond meager banter. She adjusted her grip and squeezed Adriel’s skull, his tongue turning blue against her grip as she forced the truth from his lips.

“As long as I exist,” he rasped.

Ava paused. There was a moment, before all hell broke loose, where the halo’s light seemed to dim, just a fraction less. It was enough for Beatrice to risk letting her hand fall, and risk a proper look. The voice that tickled her ears like butterfly wings cracked with a furious rage. The kind, gentle eyes that used to always tease a smile from her, were gone. Golden tears cascaded down her face which had since gone pale. A shadow had descended across her face from where the halo used to supply its energy, and it sang. It wasn’t merely a hum anymore, it was a complete and audible voice that rang through Beatrice’s ears and pierced her heart. It was the voice of an angel, and Ava, her sweet, humble Ava, was its unfortunate conduit.

“Then you,” she boomed, “will cease to exist.”

Beatrice wanted to look, but there was a reason why the possessed turned and fled . Nothing, neither mortal nor demon, could ever escape the light of the blessed. That was what they were told. That was what she was brought up to believe. But Beatrice thought it was supposed to be a beautiful thing, or at least easy. She would never believe in her wildest dreams that she might one day fear its righteous path. But as the halo grew in size, and the heat deepened until it scorched instantly those who couldn’t run fast enough, she was forced to make a desperate decision: stay, and be taken by the sterilizing light; or run with the demons, and save not only herself, but those who were unable to do the same themselves.

It’s what Ava would want, Beatrice told herself as she dove from her cover and ran out into the open. She repeated the phrase as she grabbed Mary by her collar, ignoring her pleas as she then went to do the same for Lilith. Her back exploded with a fiery, burning pain, but she couldn’t abandon anyone else. This was what Ava would want for them to do. Wasn’t it?

One more second. That was how fast it all was. In the blink of an eye, Beatrice fortified the three of them behind one of the stone walls, blocking out the cries with her habit and enclosed hands. In another, there was silence, and the faintest scent of charred ash.

She didn’t dare to turn around. She couldn’t. The Ava that they had grown to know and for her to love was no longer there, and frankly, Beatrice couldn’t tell if that was to be the greatest of blessings, or the most sorrowful of good-byes.

**Author's Note:**

> ok ok this is the last angsty oneshot that i'm gonna write (for now). next time i put pen to paper, it's gonna be fun and whimsical.
> 
> also if you want to connect with me off AO3, my twitter + tumblr is @thecrayreport and my discord is tonibaloney#5318. send me a dm, i don't bite!


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